Weeks before our move, I cleaned my bedroom and studio. In the beginning I rewarded myself, “Only thirty minutes of cleaning, then you can have the rest of the day off.” Each day got a little easier because I could see the work in front of me. This necessitated many difficult decision-making conversations with myself. For example, I had a chifferobe full of knitting supplies. I was a poser knitter for about two years after the birth of my third child. At some point I realized I’d spent six precious writing hours knitting a holey baby hat. With limited time on my hands the knitting phase passed and I was left with all the “stuff.” What would I do with the beautiful baskets, the bamboo needles of various sizes, the instruction books and the richly colored skeins of yarn? I took a deep breath and gave it all away. As I did I said, “I’m no longer a knitter.”
A similar situation presented itself with my scrapbook supplies. I’d been a scrapper for almost ten years when I started working with online photo books and saving precious hours. If I wasn’t spending time on stickers, colored paper and dry embossing, what would that open up for me? Like knitting, scrapbooking is a wonderful hobby for many, but not for a full-time coach, wife, mom of three and passionate writer; I don’t do it all.
We often announce when we take up a new hobby or activity.
“I’ve started juicing!”
“I am doing the couch to 5K” or,
“I’m taking a class to make decorative cupcakes.”
Those are all fine and good things to do, but I think it’s also important to celebrate when we’ve stopped too. When we raise up what we are saying “no” to, we can better say “yes” to other life-affirming opportunities.
It’s official. I’m no longer knitting or scrapping, which is why I’m blogging to you now.
What have you stopped doing lately? What possibilities does it open up for you?